


We Could Pretend

by youresoawkward



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Barebacking, Breakup Sex, Divorce, Future Fic, M/M, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:12:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youresoawkward/pseuds/youresoawkward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been three weeks.</p><p>Three weeks since he’s seen Liam. Three weeks since Liam moved out. Three weeks since Liam told him it was over. That he’d met someone else. That he was leaving Zayn for him.</p><p>It’s been three weeks since his world was shattered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Could Pretend

It’s been three weeks.

Three weeks since he’s seen Liam. Three weeks since Liam moved out. Three weeks since Liam told him it was over. That he’d met someone else. That he was leaving Zayn for him.

It’s been three weeks since his world was shattered.

When Liam left, he took one small bag. Said he’d be back for the rest.

And each day that Zayn’s left the house, he’s returned to find more of Liam’s things missing. Seven years of the life they’d built together disappearing little by little. Gaps appear on the mantle where framed pictures once sat, and on the dresser where Liam’s cologne took up the space next to Zayn’s, and in the closet where Liam’s clothes once hung next to his.

It’s been three weeks and Zayn figures that Liam must’ve collected nearly everything by now. The home he thought they’d grow old in together now looking empty. Feeling cold.

He’s meant to be at dinner with his manager right now, talking about a plan for the future, his next album. The next tour. Instead he’s sat on the bedroom floor, tears streaming down his face while his phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket, with Liam’s wedding ring grasped harshly in his palm. Rescued from where Zayn found it tucked into his watch box, right next to the Hublot Liam gave him on their wedding day.

Finding Liam’s ring abandoned cuts him deeper than he thought possible at this point, deeper even than the call he got from Liam’s divorce solicitor wanting to know who Zayn was using so they could get the negotiations underway.

Silent sobs rack his body as the metal digs into his palm and his head aches with a dull throb under his temples, but he can’t stop the tears from coming. Memories of their wedding day flash in his mind. Liam’s bright smile when they’d said _I do_ ; his tender lips against Zayn’s ear as he’d sang the words of their first dance song softly, just for Zayn, them moving in slow circles around the dancefloor in front of their friends and family. How they’d stumbled up to their hotel suite, drunk off happiness and expensive champagne, Liam kissing him, undressing him, making love to him. Liam telling him that he was all he’d ever need, and Zayn certain it was true.

He cries for what is probably only minutes but feels like hours, the ache in his chest so overwhelming that the pain has to bubble out. He cries until he hears a soft _oh_ from across the room. The sound pulling him out of his painful reverie.

Zayn looks up and finds Liam’s eyes, wide and surprised, and his heart stutters in his chest as he struggles to pull air into his lungs, hiccupping sobs still trying to burst out.

“Sorry, I – I didn’t think you’d be here,” Liam tells him, eyes moving around the room, looking everywhere but at Zayn and stepping back toward the door. “I’ll just go.”

Zayn can’t help but laugh, a broken, virulent sound that stops Liam in his tracks and that Zayn didn’t even know he had the capacity to make until today. “Get what you came for, Liam. Don’t let me stop you,” Zayn says, wiping the wetness from under his eyes onto the backs of his hands and getting to his feet, sneaking Liam’s ring into his pocket. Not wanting Liam to see that he’d been clutching it pathetically.

Liam looks like a deer trapped in headlights and it has satisfaction crawling up Zayn’s spine. But the triumph of catching Liam off guard is short lived, and Zayn is overcome again in the next moment with his sadness.

He’s tired. Has spent the weeks since Liam left going over their last few months together, trying to figure out where it went wrong. All the little things he’d brushed off as nothing, because he’d trusted Liam implicitly while they were together, now seeming more suspicious. Late dinners out to discuss business; out of the country trips to record; Liam crawling into bed late, smelling like liquor and sweat and cigarettes, telling Zayn he _had_ to go to that club. _It’s for promo, babe. You know how it is_.

But he’s not sure anymore, what was true and what was a lie; the knowledge he has now colouring every memory of Liam.

“No,” Liam starts, shaking his head. “I’ll just come back when…when you’re not here.”

Zayn sits on the edge of the bed. He’s just _so tired_.

“Is that how it is now?” Zayn asks. “Can’t even be in the same room with me anymore?”

“Bit surprised you’d even wanna be in the same room as me.” Liam shrugs and flicks his eyes to Zayn, cheeks tinged pink with an embarrassed blush. “Thought I was doing you a favour by avoiding you.”

Zayn can’t envision a day that he wouldn’t want to be near Liam. Even after all the ways Liam has hurt him over the last few weeks, he’s still relieved to be seeing him again. Still wants to wrap his arms around Liam and to feel Liam’s arms around him. Wants to breathe him in, touch him, _talk_ to him. There was a time they couldn’t go more than a few waking hours without speaking; three weeks feels like an eternity in comparison. Zayn misses him like mad, despite it all.

“What did I do, Liam?” Zayn asks, voice soft, eyes trained on the carpet. “What did I do wrong?” More tears escape his eyes to roll down his cheeks, fat and warm, but he doesn’t care. He wants Liam to know how much this is hurting him.

Liam makes to step toward the bed, arm raised like he wants to wipe away the tears, but he stops short, hand dragging roughly over his own face instead. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Zayn.” His voice is gruff and Zayn knows he’s trying to hold back his own tears.

Over the last few weeks he’s imagined how their first conversation would go once they saw each other again. He’s had moments where he wanted to curse Liam out for betraying him, for cheating on him, for humiliating him. He’s wanted to spit venom at him and make Liam hurt like he hurts. But there’s also been moments where he imagined begging for him to give their marriage another chance. Thinking if he could just reason with him, talk to him about _them_ , remind him how good they’ve been together, then Liam would just come back.

Right now, he doesn’t have the energy to do either. Doesn’t even know if he wants him back anymore. He just wants to know _why_.

“I must’ve, ‘cause I still wanted this. I was still happy.”

Liam sits next to him on the bed, his warm hand patting Zayn’s back, impersonal in a way that makes his chest ache more.

“You didn’t, Zayn. It wasn’t anything you did. Please believe that.”

“Then why?”

Liam takes his hand away from where it’s perched on Zayn’s back, rests it in his lap instead, both hands clutched tightly together as he curls into himself. “Don’t do this, Zayn. Please, don’t act like everything was perfect and this is blindsiding you.”

“I never said everything was perfect, Liam, but fuck! I am blindsided!” Zayn stands in his anger, frustrated hands fisting in his own hair. He just wants Liam to see it the way he sees it. They’d been drifting, sure, but they’d both been busy with work, and he thought they’d drift back. He never thought that Liam would find someone else. Never. “How ‘bout _you_ don’t act like everything was shit and you had no choice but to step out!”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen, okay?!” Liam yells, desperation tinting his voice, and standing to face Zayn. “I was lonely, and we were never together anymore. You’re always so busy and –”

“No! No, Liam. Don’t you fucking dare put that on me! You’re fucking busy, too.” Zayn shouts it at him, because it’s not fair for Liam to put the blame on him when Zayn is the one being left behind. “You’re the one who cheated. You’re my _husband_! If you weren’t happy, you should have come to me so we could straighten it out, instead of just fucking off with someone else!”

Liam keeps his eyes closed as Zayn’s words wash over him, bottom lip trembling and nose red as tears spill over his cheeks. “You’re right, Zayn. I’m sorry. I’m just so, so sorry,” Liam whispers. His voice is thick and sincere and Zayn wishes that any of that would make a difference to them now, but he knows that it doesn’t. Knows that they’re ruined, catastrophically so, and there’s no going back.

“I know you are.” He does know, can see it now that Liam’s stood in front of him, and Zayn’s full of his own regret as well. He’s sorry that he didn’t do more to stop things from going downhill. Wishes that he’d realised before today that things weren’t going to work out just because they were _Zayn &Liam_; that they’d needed more than that. “I’m sorry, too.”

Liam looks up, surprised eyes red-rimmed and Zayn still loathes seeing him upset. He steps closer to him without thought, snakes his arms around Liam’s waist and buries his face against his shoulder, half expecting Liam to push him away.

“I hate this,” Zayn says into Liam’s collar, breathing a small sigh of relief when Liam’s arms wrap around his shoulders, one hand threading into his hair, fingertips scraping soft across his scalp. The familiarity of his scent makes Zayn’s heart clench painfully, and he inhales deep, trying to get his fill before he never can again.

“Me too.” Liam presses his own face against Zayn’s neck, cheeks warm and wet with tears.

“I hate that I couldn’t make you happy.”

“Zayn, please don’t,” Liam begs.

“I hate that I wasn’t enough for you.” He whispers it into Liam’s skin, voice catching at the confession, and Liam squeezes him tighter but doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t try to quell the fear Zayn is harbouring that tells him this really is all his fault. That if he’d just been better, Liam would still be his.

Silence descends on them and he knows Liam will pull away soon, when the awkwardness sets in. When it becomes unbearable, holding each other tightly in the bedroom they shared not a month ago. Then, Liam will pull away, even though Zayn’s not ready to let him go yet. So Zayn speaks again, knowing he shouldn’t, but not being able to help himself from letting his jumbled thoughts spill out.

“I –” he starts, taking a breath. “I just. I wish I had known, ya know? The last time, that…” he lets himself trail off, not knowing how to finish because it’s stupid, really. He feels petty for even thinking it, let alone voicing it.

“What, Zayn?” Liam asks, voice gentle. “Wish you’d known what?” He pulls back some, but Zayn presses closer, shaking his head against Liam’s neck and tightening his hold on his waist.

Liam relaxes into him again and Zayn’s chest aches with it, with the familiarity and the knowing; both the knowing that what they had is over, and the knowing that their current moment is about the end.

He just wants to hold on to Liam for a bit longer.

It takes a second for Zayn to garner his courage enough to look up, meeting Liam’s curious gaze. “I just, I wish we could be together one more time.” Zayn has to close his eyes as he says it, shame from even asking bubbling in his gut as tears tickle the back of his throat.

“We – we can’t. We’re not together anymore, Zayn,” he says, like a reminder; like Zayn could forget. But he doesn’t pull away, and Zayn counts that as a win and presses on.

“We could pretend.” Zayn shifts forward, eyes still closed, nose brushing Liam’s, the feel of Liam’s breath against his lips making desperation flare inside him. “Please?”

Warm lips press against Zayn’s and he almost sobs with relief, parting them to flick his tongue against Liam’s mouth, needing to taste him again. Liam goes easy for him, mouth pliant and opening. They kiss until he’s breathless from it, until his lungs are burning and his lips are sore and Liam is pulling away to rest their foreheads together.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Liam whispers.

Zayn nods, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “I know.” He kisses Liam again because he doesn’t want him to start to overthink it, ‘cause Zayn is sure there are more reasons why they shouldn’t than there are reasons they should.

Liam’s mouth is eager against his own, and Zayn focuses on the feel of their lips pressed together, focuses on the taste of Liam’s tongue and the small noises Liam makes in the back of his throat every time Zayn trails the tip of tongue along the roof of Liam’s mouth.

Liam’s fingers scrape the scruff lining Zayn’s jaw and the gesture sends shivers across his skin and makes heat settle in his belly.

He lets his fingers run along the hem of Liam’s shirt, afraid of moving too quickly but needing to feel Liam’s skin against his own. Zayn dips his hands under the fabric, runs them up Liam’s sides and Liam moves back enough to let Zayn push the shirt up and over his head. He does the same for himself, discarding his shirt onto the carpet and stepping close to Liam again so their bare skin presses together.

Their mouths meet again before Zayn trails his lips over the coarse hair lining Liam’s jaw, stopping to suck his earlobe lightly. Liam gasps in response, his hips rocking a bit against Zayn’s and his fingers scratching where they’re skimming up Zayn’s back.

“What do you want, Li?” Zayn asks him, lips grazing the shell of Liam’s ear. Touching Liam is intoxicating and he can feel himself hardening already in his jeans, but he needs Liam to tell him where this is going before he can do anything about it; needs to know that, for now, they’re on the same page again.

Zayn rubs his palms down Liam’s back, stopping to cup his arse and pull their hips together gently. He can feel Liam, half-hard against him, and Zayn rolls his hips again just to feel the friction.

“Liam?”

“You, Z,” Liam moans quietly as Zayn kneads his fingers against Liam’s clothed bum. “Just you.” The lump that’s settled in his throat threatens to erupt into sobs at Liam’s words, but he forces himself to take a steadying breath instead. Pushes his sadness down, burying it so he can enjoy the moment.

Zayn kisses back down Liam’s jaw until their lips meet again and unbuttons the clasp of Liam’s jeans so he can push them down, along with his pants. Liam breaks the kiss to toe off his shoes and step out of his clothes fully and Zayn just watches him. Watches his muscles flex and his cock bounce when he kicks his clothing away and then steps back in front of Zayn.

“You too,” Liam tells him as he undoes the button and flies of Zayn’s jeans and Zayn lets him push the articles off his hips. Lets Liam undress him and tries not to think about how it’s probably the last time.

When he’s naked, he pulls Liam back into him, lets their hips press tight, revels in the feel of Liam’s arousal against his own. Zayn gently fists a hand into Liam’s hair and tugs until Liam bares his throat to him and Zayn licks kisses against his birthmark, tasting the slight saltiness of Liam's skin and using all of his restraint to not rake his teeth over the spot, being careful to not mark him up.

He runs a hand down Liam’s warm back and over the swell of his arse, then dips his fingers between Liam’s cheeks, skating over his dry hole. “Zayn,” Liam whimpers, and Zayn runs a finger over him again, deliberate and pressing. “ _Fuck_.”

“C’mon, babe,” Zayn tells him, laying a final kiss against the thumping pulse under Liam’s skin and walking Liam back toward the bed. Liam turns to climb on to the sheets and Zayn follows him close, guiding him with soft hands until Liam is knelt at the head of the bed, hands resting on the lip of the headboard and Zayn’s front is pressed tightly to Liam’s back, chin hooked over Liam’s shoulder to watch his own hands smoothing over his chest.

Zayn lets his blunt nails scrape against Liam’s nipples, tweaking each lightly and watching a bead of precum wet the tip of Liam’s prick as Liam bites his lip at the attention, a groan catching in his throat.

Zayn feels overwhelmed by the things he wants right now, his mind racing over all the ways he wants to touch and taste and _feel_ Liam, and he has to take a moment to just rest against him, to get his mind to slow.

“Z,” Liam whines, mouthing against Zayn’s temple. “Zayn, please.” He swivels his hips back against Zayn as a plea and the movement has Zayn coming back to himself.

“Relax, Li. I’ve got you, yeah?” Zayn tells him. He moves away, reaching over the side of the bed toward the nightstand to fumble in the drawer for the lube and a condom, dropping the foil packet next to them and opening the bottle to wet his first three fingers. He cups Liam’s hip with his dry hand and rests the tip of his slicked middle finger against Liam’s entrance, needing reassurance. “You sure?” His voice comes out thin, but Liam hears him, nods his head in assent and arches his back some, pushing against Zayn’s hand.

Zayn circles the tip of his finger, slicking the tight ring of muscle before pushing in. Liam’s tight, always is, and Zayn gently thrusts his finger against the resistance, working in and out until Liam’s relaxing enough to rock his hips back, silently asking for more.

He wiggles a second finger in next to the first and shuffles forward so his chest is against Liam again, pressing his palm to Liam’s chest, keeping him close. He scissors his fingers, stretching him slow, and drops kisses along Liam’s shoulder, sucking light marks into his skin that Zayn knows will fade before their time together is up.

Liam gasps and shudders when Zayn crooks his fingers forward to nudge against his prostate and it makes pride grow in Zayn’s chest. He knows Liam’s body still, probably better than he knows his own, and Zayn’s going to use that to his advantage while he still can. He rubs against the bundle of nerves again and thumbs over one of Liam’s sensitive nipples, the bud hard already from Liam’s arousal, and Liam whimpers this time, body tightening around Zayn’s fingers.

“Zayn – _fuck_ – I’m ready,” Liam says, voice rough, and he reaches behind himself to grasp Zayn’s wrist.

He reluctantly leans back from Liam and pulls his fingers out, using his palms to spread Liam, liking the way his hole gapes a bit, clenching around nothing. He thumbs over the muscle, letting his fingertip dip inside for a moment just to hear Liam whimper and rut his hips back, looking to be filled again.

Zayn pulls his hand away, wiping it on the sheets and reaching for the condom, the foil slipping against his wet fingers.

“Wait,” Liam says, looking over his shoulder at Zayn, eyes wide. “Don’t, please. We don’t need that.”

“Liam –” Zayn starts to protest, but Liam shakes his head and plucks the packet out of his hands.

“Please, Z,” Liam begs softly, turning enough to palm Zayn’s cheek and bring their lips together for a soft kiss. “I’m clean. I promise. I just – please? I wanna feel you. Just you.” God, he wishes Liam would stop saying that because the words are like a knife to his gut.

Liam brushes their lips together again, and Zayn knows he’s going to give in to him. Say 'fuck it', because Liam is his and they haven’t _needed_ to use condoms in years, or so he thought, and if this is their last time together then he wants it to be perfect.

“Okay,” he whispers against Liam’s lips and blindly feels around for the bottle of lube as Liam kisses him again, deep and slow and full of something Zayn doesn’t want to focus on or else he might break down before they finish.

Zayn breaks the kiss so he can slick himself up and Liam turns to brace himself again against the headboard, arms taut and back bowed. Zayn palms his arse again with one hand, exposing Liam’s entrance and using his other hand to steady his cock. He nudges himself against Liam, waiting a beat before pressing inside his tight heat, taking it slow, sinking in inch by inch.

He pauses when he’s fully sheathed, rubs his palms up Liam’s sides and nuzzles against his neck, “Tell me when you’re ready.”

Liam nods immediately, “I’m good. You can move now.” Liam’s cock is still hard, bobbing a bit as he rolls his hips back, and precum slicks his slit. Zayn grips his hips before sliding out and pushing back in, Liam’s body warm and welcoming.

They fall into a rhythm. Liam meeting the slow, steady push of Zayn’s hips, and moaning softly with each thrust. It’s dizzying for Zayn, the pleasure mixed with the dull pain he’s been carrying in his chest for the last few weeks. He fucks Liam harder, shifting some to rest his hands over Liam’s on the headboard.

Their fingers slot together easily and it’s like a shot to the heart when he sees the wedding band on his own finger, stark and obvious against Liam’s bare hand. Feeling like an idiot for having kept it on these last few weeks, but he just wasn’t ready to take it off yet. He’s still not ready.

Zayn closes his eyes against the visual and focuses on Liam, on the way he feels against him, around him. Focuses on the way he smells and the way he sounds, low moans and grunts rumbling out of his mouth, and Zayn just wants him to lose it. Wants to make him feel so good that he forgets why he left in the first place.

He wraps a tight fist around Liam’s prick and tugs a few times before he thumbs over the head like he knows Liam likes. Liam shudders at the contact and Zayn shifts his hips as he fucks him harder, making Liam cry out at the change in angle, throwing his head back.

“Right there, baby?” Zayn asks, snapping his hips up again in quick rabbit thrusts that have Liam shaking against him, cock leaking steady in Zayn’s fist and moaning loud, unconcerned about anything but his pleasure and unafraid to let Zayn see how good he feels. Zayn strokes him faster, rubbing Liam’s foreskin against the sensitive head of his cock, and he knows Liam is close, can feel it in the way his muscles shake and how he’s clenching around him. “You gonna cum for me, Li?” Zayn pants.

“ _Fuck_ , yes,” Liam moans before he lets go, body tense around Zayn’s prick and muscles flexing as his orgasm rolls over him. Zayn fucks him through it, hand tight on Liam’s dick until Liam’s body relaxes and he’s pushing Zayn’s hand weakly off his prick, the pressure too much.

Liam leans heavily against him, eyes closed and face lax. He looks peaceful, sated, with his head tilted back, resting against Zayn’s shoulder, and Zayn’s heart aches just looking at him.

He’s still painfully hard and nestled deep inside Liam, but Liam doesn’t make a move to pull away so Zayn settles for trailing his hands over Liam’s flushed skin, waiting for him to come back to himself and trying to commit this to memory.

Liam’s eyes flutter open after a moment and Zayn grasps his hips so that he can pull out, wincing a bit at the loss of Liam’s heat and at the way his cock slaps hard against his stomach.

Liam whines at the loss as well, but he turns to face Zayn once he’s empty, pushing Zayn’s shoulders until he’s lying flat on the bed and Liam is straddling his thighs. Liam grasps him loosely, shuffling forward on his knees until he’s lined himself up with Zayn’s prick and he sinks down enough for the head to slip inside, and keeping a tight hand on Zayn’s hip to keep him still.

“Fuck, Liam. More,” Zayn whimpers, trying to shift his hips up into Liam’s tight heat but not being able to. Liam pulls off again just to tease, he’s always been a fucking tease, but Zayn loves it. Loves to be on the edge and Liam knows it, so he takes his time to press back down on to Zayn’s stiff prick, taking each inch slowly, until he’s sitting heavy in Zayn’s lap and Zayn is shaking from the effort he’s putting into not flipping them over and fucking deep into Liam until he cums.

Liam rides him slow, grinds his hips in tiny circles, before he moves on to small bounces. He keeps his palms flat against Zayn’s chest and Zayn rests his own hands over Liam’s, lets Liam take his time because he’ll give him anything he wants at this point if it means he’s not walking out the door yet.

“Think you can cum again, babe?” Liam’s prick is still semi-stiff and Zayn thinks he could get him hard again, have him cumming a second time.

“I don’t know,” Liam pants, brow furrowed a bit and he fucks his hips down harder. Zayn can feel his own orgasm building in his gut, his muscles twitching from it and fingers gripping against Liam’s. “I – I just wanna feel you cum, Z.”

“ _Fuck_ , Liam,” Zayn moans and Liam rides him hard, flicking his hips down quick and firm, and Zayn suspects they’ll both have bruises from this tomorrow. But it’s hard to care when Liam feels _so good_. “I’m gonna cum, Li. I’m gonna –”

“Yes, Zayn, want you to fill me up, babe. C’mon.”

Zayn wants to slow everything down, wants to savour this and live in this instant forever, but it’s like time is speeding by and he can’t do anything to stop it. His orgasm hits him hard, pleasure rolling through him and he’s cumming, gripping Liam’s hips rough and grinding deep. Liam’s moaning loud, eyes rolled back and jaw dropped like he’s the one getting off, and Zayn’s certain he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

He feels boneless once his orgasm subsides and he sinks deeper against the mattress, Liam following suit, pulling off Zayn’s spent cock and falling onto his back next to Zayn. They lay in silence, both panting in an effort to calm their hearts and Zayn’s afraid to open his eyes and look at Liam, afraid to ruin this moment.

Liam shifts next to him and Zayn feels soft fingers run along his jaw, tilting his head toward where Liam lays, before he feels Liam’s lips against his own. The kiss is gentle, almost chaste, the heat of their previous passion burnt out.

Zayn opens his eyes when Liam pulls back, “I love you, Liam. Forever. I only ever want you to be happy, so,” and he has to take a breath because his voice is thick with unshed tears, but he needs to get this out, “if this is what you need to do to be happy, then I understand.”

Liam smiles at him, small and sad, “Thank you. For everything.” He leans forward again to brush their lips together briefly, “You've given me such a beautiful life, Zayn. I don’t regret it. Not a moment. I just – I need something else now.”

Zayn nods, tears slipping out and wetting the duvet, and then Liam’s pulling away. Pushing himself off the bed and dressing. Zayn doesn’t watch him get dressed, just closes his eyes, letting silent tears fall as he tries to stop loud ragged breathes from seeping out.

“Bye, Z,” Liam whispers when he gets to their bedroom door, and it’s soft but the words practically echo in the quiet room.

And then Liam’s gone, and Zayn’s alone again.

“Goodbye, Li.”

**Author's Note:**

> god, this took me forever to finish and i had like ten different directions that i thought about it going in so i'm a bit concerned that it got jumbled when i finally picked one
> 
> as always, please let me know what you think. feedback, good or bad, is really appreciated and it's helpful for me to know what people thought so i can gauge whether or not it's coming across how i intended
> 
> sorry for any mistakes. i always seem to have a ton even if i read it over a hundred times before posting
> 
> ps. always use protection. never just take someone's word for it that they're clean. your sexual health is more important than other people's pleasure. zayn's pov here is flawed, not using a condom doesn't = 'perfect' sex (sorry if i sound like your mom)
> 
> [tumblr](http://bisexvalziam.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [tumblr drabbles](http://youresoawkward.tumblr.com/)


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